Priorities
by Cuthalion97
Summary: A short story - perhaps it could even be called a drabble? - that illustrates the paladins' maturity and ability to cope with any situation that comes their way. The genres might be just a bit misleading, depending on how you look at it. ':D


**Hi! I know it's been some time since I updated 'Invasion', and I sincerely apologize. I never should have started posting it until it was finished, but I did. More's the pity. :/ At any rate, here's a little something I wrote out today. It's - not very serious. At all. ;)**

Hunk dug around in the kitchen, searching for . . . ah, there they were. He snatched the gold-and-pink package with a certain amount of malicious glee. Coran had introduced the paladins to this popular galaxy-wide treat. They looked a little bit like cream-filled cookies – except for a couple of minor differences. Minor differences such as the fact that the cookie part was a shiny metallic silver, and the cream was a weird black color.

The yellow paladin opened the far-too-crinkly package with exceeding care, peeping over his shoulder to ensure that none of the others were within hearing range.

 _Crackle. Crackle . . . CRACKLE.  
_  
He winced, licked his lips, and began to whistle tunelessly, hoping to cover any further noise as he carefully inserted one hand between the foil layers. The cheerful writing on the outside moved a bit as he wriggled his fingers, reaching into the very bottom of the bag.

These particular treats, for some reason unknown to Hunk, were named 'Mauves', and they were the single most delicious thing he had ever eaten.

He withdrew his hand slowly, a mauve clutched between the tips of his fingers, and inserted the treat into his mouth. He chewed slowly. The outside was crispy for perhaps a second after, and then it promptly dissolved away in a mouth-watering rush of delicate sweetness. The inside of the cookie itself was chewy and bland, but complemented the whipped filling to perfection.

"Perfection," he said aloud, and withdrew another mauve. There was no other word, in any language in the universe, that could possibly describe this thing. If Hunk had a choice, he wouldn't bother eating anything else.  
Unfortunately for Hunk, he was not the only one who enjoyed them. Coran had come back to the Castle of Lions with a shuttle full of bags containing hundreds of mauves.

That had been less than a movement ago.

The very first varga had seen the end of one bag.

The second had seen the end of the second and third.

Shiro had locked them up after that, entrusting the key – somewhat foolishly, the others all thought – to Coran.

Their assumption was justified by the fact that they were now down to their last bag - after all, blaming Coran for unlocking the door in the first place was far easier than blaming themselves for eating the cookies. Besides, Shiro had certainly eaten his fair share.

Hunk wondered if he could somehow bake mauves. It would be hard. . .

Lost in his thoughts, he failed to hear Lance's outraged gasp as the blue paladin caught sight of his pal eating mauves without him. He didn't hear the hurriedly whispered conference outside the kitchen door. He didn't see the door partially open, or Keith's wordless glare.

"Hi-YAAAAH!" A streak of green heralded Pidge's arrival, from inside the kitchen vent. She landed in a crouch, snatched the bag from him with a loud crunching of foil, and threw it overhand, straight into Matt's grasping fingers.

"Good throw, Pidge! Come on!" he yelled.

As the two Holts sprinted towards the door, it slammed open all the way, and Lance and Keith stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking their escape.

Matt hid the mauves behind his back.

Pidge summoned her bayard and assumed a threatening pose. "Stand back."

"What?" squawked Lance. "No way! You two can't hog all the mauves!"

Pidge's eyebrow went up. Her mouth quirked. Her bayard lit up.

Matt smiled in an almost lazy fashion. "Yeah, we can, and _you_ can't stop us."

Hunk laughed nervously, raising his hands. "Uh, guys, can everyone just relax a little?"

"Relax? What's going on in here?" chirped Coran, popping his head between Keith's and Lance's. "Oh! I see you've found the last bag of mauves!"

"Yeah," said Keith, looking pointedly at Hunk.

"Wait, how'd you know?" demanded Lance. "Matt's hiding them."

 _Snap_ went the mustache. "Actually, it's pretty obvious . . ."

Pidge was losing patience. "Okay, guys, I'll say it one more time. Get. Out. Of. Our. Way."

Matt shrugged smugly at them. "Survival of the smartest."

With a wordless snarl, Keith dove for Matt, and the lanky science nerd staggered back, stumbled, lost his balance, and toppled over onto his back.

 _Crunch.  
_  
Everyone froze, wide-eyed. Keith and Matt, their faces inches apart, stared at each other in undisguised horror.

"Oh, no," squeaked Matt.

"Hey, guys," Shiro's voice sounded from within the hall. "I was looking for you everywhere. What do . . .?"

The oldest paladin stopped in the doorway, a hand braced on either side, and peered down at Coran, who was on his knees, grasping tremulously at Lance's shoulder as the blue paladin slumped against the kitchen wall.  
Pidge's bayard, forgotten, hung limply from one hand. She stared from Shiro to Hunk. Keith, still in mid-lunge, turned to look at the newcomer, lost his balance, and sat down suddenly.

Matt moved slowly, gingerly, one hand reaching towards the center of his back. "I think you made me squish them," he whispered. And then he stopped short. "Keith. You made me _smash_ them!"

Hunk clapped both hands to his face. "No. Ohmigosh, NOOOOO!"

He lunged forward in tandem with Lance. They grabbed Matt by his shoulders, hauled him up, and detached the bag from his clutching fingers. Hunk tried to open the bag, but the two sides were now effectively glued together.

In the utter tragedy and hopelessness of the moment, everyone in the room turned instinctively to Shiro, who looked back with an expression they'd seen, thus far, only during the worst of his flashbacks. He started to speak, hesitated, and ran a hand through the streak of white hair. "Keith . . ."

Keith lifted his hands in an expression of surrender. "I'm sorry!"

Coran bristled. "Sorry? SORRY?! Keith – we're _lightyears away from any planet that sells those!_ "

"I know. . ." Keith hung his head.

"Pidge, quick!" said Lance, leaping to his feet. "Give me your bayard!"

She handed it over, a quick gleam of hope entering her eyes.

Everyone watched as Lance made a careful slice across one side of the bag and pulled the edges apart.  
A smudged disaster of silver crumbs and black pasted coated the inside of the now-rectangular piece of foil. Lance quickly cut the foil into equal pieces and distributed them to each person in the room.

"Good thinking, Lance," said Shiro.

"Oh man, Lance, you're the best," said Hunk.

"Team Voltron does it again!" cheered Pidge and Matt, punctuating the sentence with a loud high-five.

Coran gave Lance's hand a fervent shake. "Thank you, Lance! Now I owe you my life _and_ some mauves!"

Keith inclined his head seriously. "Great work."

"So," said Lance, looking around. "There's one piece left after mine. . . uh, save it for Allura?"

Shiro looked up. "Does she _know_ about it?"

Everyone exchanged long and slightly guilty glances.

"She'll never hear about it from me," promised Coran.

 **Did Allura ever get her cookie-covered piece of foil? . . . This mystery will remain unsolved for all time. Please review! :)**


End file.
